Impulse WOW and musings....

Hello dear ones,

Welcome to Muse Echo, the blog where I write about the creative process, creative impulse, works completed or in progress, what I was thinking etc....

So, last week I wrote about my thinking behind impulse per a friend's request. Today I write about my impulse on a personal level, to whom it may concern or interest....

It seems I have a muse. Somehow, I've been hearing music internally since before I could talk. I remember getting really fussy and frustrated in a crib when my mother would wind up this toy swan with a moving neck and music box inside. Well, this music box - this external NOISE (although I like the melody) would interrupt the music I was hearing internally (which I much preferred to hear). I'd get more frustrated with the noise and the more I cried, the more my mother would wind up that #*&#^*#&^ swan! AAGH so I learned to be quiet so I could go back to hearing my own music. HA HA HA - oh - I still have the music box that was inside the toy swan. I've kept it as a souvenir. Hmmm, maybe I'll take a picture of it

Of course, it wasn't until I was a little bit older I connected the dots and realized that the music I was hearing inside, wasn't being heard by those in my outer environment, such as Mrs. White, the neighbors horse eating apples, or the ravens playing in the oak tree.

That was a big day. The day I connected the dots.

I remember it clearly because I was, as usual, playing outside in my "4 by 4 Queendom" (sand box) as was my habit as a very little girl, and the music I was hearing (and taking completely for granted) was interrupted by Ravens calling. I loved hearing the ravens and sat very still and internally quiet while I waited to hear the ravens calling again.

So, it was in that Zen silence of waiting to hear the ravens that I experienced the contrast of internal radio on and internal radio off.

I learned shortly thereafter (I guess I asked about it as I was always annoying adults with questions) that there are people called COMPOSERS who write down what they hear so that others can enjoy the music too.


And there are places for composers called CONSERVATORIES where they learn how to write down their music in order to share it with others.


Then I learned that in order to go to a conservatory, I had to learn the language of music by playing an instrument really well.

At that point I already knew I HAD to play the oboe....I was still waiting until I was physically old enough to hold it. In fact I started before I could even get my ring finger covering the D key - but after waiting 5 excruciatingly long years and being almost 9 years old - I just had to start - anyway...

Before I could read or write music, I would climb up on the piano bench and play. Just improvise. It never sounded like the music in my head but I greatly enjoyed the cause and effect of playing with this big grinning toy where I could explore combinations of sounds.

Q: Impulse? A: Curiosity and delight.

I'd spend hours on end exploring the sonic realm of the piano. In hindsight, I'm so grateful for this non directed exploration time which lasted until I was 6 when one evening my father taught me how to read treble clef and the names of the notes on the piano. Later when I was 9, one afternoon my brother casually mentioned how to figure out bass clef based through transposing treble clef! (After that the Reader's Digest of love songs resting on the piano became my new world of exploration. I cut my teeth on piano music that way for years until formal piano when I was in middle school after I stopped taking ballet lessons, which I loved dearly.) 

So, in hindsight, I believe my underlying creative impulse is a desire to share the music I hear internally - with others very well.


I promise you, it's one thing to write down music, it's another thing to write it down in such a way that it really sounds like what the muse gave me!

THAT is my life's work. Learning to perfectly portray this beautiful muse in all her radiance accurately - not like a stick figure! It wasn't until my late 30's I felt like there was any chance of me ever making a life like portrait - to use the metaphor. I've gotten better, but I still have a ways to go...and a strong desire to keep going. Now THIS impulse, drives me to be a healthier long living person....I'm 51.... (and at this age, part of the challenge is to shield myself to preventwhat can eclipse me from hearing the can feel like a tight rope walk sometimes. For example, although I can write music from my intellect when I'm angry, I can't hear music from my muse when I'm angry - so intellectual and emotional management is necessary in order to hear the high vibe heart music of the muse - which contains all emotions and all colors...)

It's a challenge. It's my pilgrimage. It's my Mecca - and I wonder if I'll ever completely arrive. The way I see it, I'm half way there (maybe?) One lifetime, clearly, is NOT enough for music. At all.

To the muse.

Peace, K. Potter

P.S. (I just located and wound up the music box which I am listening to now and it's setting my teeth on edge - although it's a waltz and I love waltzes...oh my - it's dreadfully out of tune. ugh...and the more I want it to stop, the slower it goes!!!!.....clearly a form of child abuse... I say.)